


Some things never change

by StrawberryLane



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beth Lives, F/M, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kissing, POV Outsider, Possessive Behavior, Prejudice, Stereotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: Her youngest son tells her they've got bigger problems to worry about right now than some white trash redneck having sex with an underage girl, but it's still something that makes Tillie feel uncomfortable.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is so incredibly short, but I don't have any imagination right now. I haven't actually seen all that much of TWD, so sorry of it seems out of character.

If this was the real world, the world from before, the world where the dead weren't walking around like it was normal, Tillie knows she would have given serious thought to calling the cops on the man. As it is, there ain’t no cops around to call, so it's pointless. Her youngest son tells her they've got bigger problems to worry about right now than some white trash redneck having sex with an underage girl, but it's still something that makes Tillie feel uncomfortable.

What can she say, she's still stuck in her ways.

It's not like the duo, who'd joined Tillie and her little group as recently as a week ago, have been obvious about what exactly their relationship entails. No, quite the opposite. They don't, as far as Tillie knows, touch when they know members of Tillie's group can see or catch them. But they keep their distance from the group, keep to themselves. That in itself is not unusual – trust is a rare thing these days, with the ending of the world bringing out the nasty in just about everyone. What sets Tillie's alarm bells ringing is the way the man keeps watching his girl, always keeping her in his sights. Like a guard dog, terrified someone better will come along and steal her away. He has a possessive gaze, one that never strays far away from the girl, even if she's doing something as harmless as plucking flowers from the ground.

Tillie hadn't even been sure that the nature of their relationship was, in fact, sexual, until she'd accidentally walked in on them trading lazy, lewd kisses in their assigned bedroom, the girl seated in the man's lap. Thankfully for Tillie's heart, they'd both been fully clothed.

The first night, when they first arrived and asked to stay at the old farm for a couple of days, the girl, Beth, had told Tillie that she and the man, Daryl, had gotten separated from their own group weeks earlier, being on their own ever since. They had taken refugee in a funeral home of all places for a while before moving on. Keeping on moving is important, she says, to find their lost group and reunite with them.

Beth does all of the talking, Daryl answering in grunts when asked something directly. Otherwise, he seems to leave the matter of keeping the conversation alive to Beth, who does an admirable job of keeping a steady stream of words coming but really saying nothing of importance at all. Nothing that can lead back to them, no clues about who they were _before._ Tillie can understand that, wanting to protect what little is yours as good as you can. It goes again in the way Daryl looks at Beth, that hungry, possessive gaze that promises he'll do whatever, literally whatever, to keep her safe, to keep her with him.

Daryl is the type of man that was made for the apocalypse, the kind of man that will be the last one standing, when everybody else have succumbed to the horrors that plagues the earth. He thrives on the end of the world, too dangerous, dirty and nasty for the world back the way it was before, back when it was clean and orderly. Back when Tillie's oldest son was a successful lawyer and Tillie had just become a grandmother for the first time. Both the son and his baby are long since dead, too late in getting out of Atlanta.

Daryl asks about the old, broken down motorcycle in the barn. It had been there when Tillie's group arrived, and they had thought about fixing it, but none of them has any clue as to how to. Daryl, on the other hand, seems to know what he's doing as he sets up in front of the house, spending hours changing this part and that part, cleaning the bike as best he can. Beth usually stays close by when he's fixing the bike, polishing her knife or borrowing Tillie's sewing kit to repair a pair of jeans with a hole in them. It takes some time, but one afternoon Daryl announces that he's got the bike working again and that they've abused the group's hospitality for long enough.

Tillie knows it's not her place and knows that even if it was, the girl is too far gone to listen to what an old lady like Tillie has to say, but she can't help but wanting to reach out, to save the girl from the heartbreak that is sure to occur. Men like Daryl drift around, they never settle, not even for love. There might even be a day when Beth realizes this and tries to leave and then things will turn ugly.

"You can stay here, if you want. Traveling the road ain’t a life for a girl like you," Tillie tries, thinking it might help to verbally announce that she thinks the girl should stay with them and not go along with Daryl.

"That's very kind of you, but I've got to find my sister," Beth tells her, eyes big and earnest. "She's the only one I've got left now."

They lock eyes for a moment longer, acknowledging each other one last time, before Beth hoists her bag onto her back and starts walking over to where Daryl is already straddling the bike, waiting impatiently.

If this was a movie, Tillie thinks, watching as Beth climbs onto the bike and wraps her arms around Daryl, it probably wouldn't be out of character for the man to grin a victorious grin, one that signals that hey, this girl has made her choice and it's me.

 It's always going to be me.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


End file.
